Dark Calling

by McIntyre, Cheryl

  Icy rough hands pull her up. She is shifted over a firm shoulder in a very ungentle manner before she is carried away. She opens one eye just enough to see, but all she can make out is more darkness. This man carrying her doesn’t seem to have a problem seeing in the dark. He moves easily through the tunnels. She hears voices in the distance. Keely. Bryon.

  A flickering light shows through her eye lids, but she doesn’t dare open them. There is the clanking of heavy metal keys. A slow creek as a door is opened. The man holding her cops a feel. Fingers dig into her behind, move much too slowly as they fondle every last inch. It takes everything inside of her not to kick him in the testicles, but then what? She has no weapons, he would over power her, possibly kill her and she knows Keely and Bryon are close. The man chuckles as he drops her in a heap on the floor. The door slams shut and his footsteps fade.

  Lila rolls over. Swipes her sleeve across her face to remove some of the blood. She holds her breath and listens. Her heart tells her she is where she needs to be. So she sits up and pulls her feet under her. And she waits.

  One. Two. Three. Four. “Hello?”

  Lila attempts a smile, but decides it hurts too badly. “How’s it going, Keely?”

  “Lila?”

  “Hey Bryon. So, I guess you aren’t a traitor after all.”

  “A traitor? What are you talking about?”

  “Not important right now,” Keely sighs. “We need to get out of here.”

  “No, we need to wait,” Lila says.

  “For what?” Keely crosses her arms exasperated. Obviously she doesn’t have much of a choice, but she felt better when she was trying to think of a way out.

  “I don’t know for what. I just know we need to wait. It won’t be long now.”

  Eighteen:

  “You said if I helped you, you would let her go. You said-”

  “What I said was she would be free to go. Am I to blame if she chose not to?” Apophis examines his nails, growing bored with this boy and his insufferable whining. He has more than enough distractions to keep him entertained. Dustin may very well no longer be of use to him. He considers how he will kill him as the boy continues to spout about fairness, and deals, and other insignificant banter. His ranting is interfering with his thoughts. It makes it hard to concentrate. And to think, he was so kind to this…this peon. He allowed him a fair chance, his girl as well. And here he is, speaking of injustices. Even calling him ugly names. Him. He who is so far from anything of ugliness. He who is bright and clean and beautiful by anybody’s standards. He who is the third son of his Angel father. He who has the blood of an Angel coursing through his veins at this very moment. How dare he insult him? How dare he speak to him in such a manner? HOW DARE HE?

  Apophis closes his icy blue eyes. The boy’s voice makes him cringe ever so slightly with the whininess of it. He inhales deeply. Holds the breath in. Exhales slowly. Very slowly. The boy moves closer, he can tell by the way his voice grows louder, stronger. Apophis rubs his forehead tiredly. He could snap his fingers and any number of servants would in turn snap this boy’s neck. Or stab him in the heart possibly. Slice his throat maybe. Choke him with bare hands even. He stands over him now, cursing him. That’s all it takes to decide Apophis’ mind. In one solid movement, so quick the boy never sees it coming, he has him by the throat. The grip he places on his Adam’s apple is precise. With the lightest of pressure he could finish this. Yet, where is the fun in that? He lifts Dustin off the ground and walks him to the long dining table. Body slams him on top as if he weighs nothing at all. He snaps the fingers of his free hand to draw the attention of the Demon girl sprawling across the chair to his left. “Needle and thread, now.” She stands immediately and nods her head. “No, make it something thicker. Fishing line maybe.” She nods again and scurries off. Dustin struggles under his grip. Apophis adds a small amount of force and watches as the boy’s eyes try to close. He smiles as Dustin fights against himself, trying desperately not to lose consciousness. “Bind his hands,” Apophis calls to the boy by the door. He looks younger than the boy on the table, yet he is nothing like him. The younger boy is a duty bound Demon. He obeys quickly disappearing out the door and returning promptly with a small length of rope.

  “Above his head and then to the table,” Apophis instructs. When the knots are complete, he releases his grip on Dustin and steps back to watch him gasp for breath. Laughs as he tries to pull free of his restraints. The rope tightens on his wrists. Rubs raw the flesh there. The girl walks briskly back into the room, her hands full. “Aw, yes. This is perfect.” Apophis holds up a spool of thick black nylon thread. “Yes, this will do just fine.” He fixes the girl in his sight. Memorizes her face for future reference. “What is your name?”

  The girl spreads her lips in a seductive smile. “Mianna,” she purrs.

  “Excellent, Mianna.” He turns his attention back to Dustin and smiles at him sadly. “I’m very sorry, but this is going to hurt. A lot.” He winks at him and threads the needle carefully. Dustin whimpers, but makes no other sound. No pleas. No more deals. If Apophis could admire anyone, he possibly would consider admiring Dustin for his quiet acceptance. However, there is no time for that. He bends over him, his ear close to Dustin’s mouth. “Any last words, boy?”

  Dustin turns his head. Holds in the many things he would like to say. None of them are meant for Apophis’ ears. They are all for Lila. Lila. Oh, how he hopes she went quickly. Not like this. Oh, God, not like this. What has he done?

  “So, nothing to say now? All right then.” Apophis grips Dustin’s lips, pushing them together tightly. He thrust the dirty and rusted needle into the skin on top of his lips straight through, down the bottom lip and back out again. Pulls it snugly then begins again at the top. The needle scrapes across Dustin’s gums. Slides across his teeth. Dustin flexes his legs. Pulls his arms with all his might. His back comes away from the table, but he cannot break free of the rope binding his hands. Blood trails down his chin and cheek. At first, he thinks it’s only sweat, but then he tastes it inside his mouth. Metallic and salty.

  Over and over, Apophis shoves the oversized needle through his skin closing off his mouth. Dustin stops struggling, understanding the more he moves, the more the sharp needle rips at his flesh. Instead, he closes his eyes. Tears escape from under his lids as he pictures Lila. Imagines the way her long soft hair encloses them when they kiss. He can nearly smell her scent that is uniquely Lila, like fresh flowers and sunshine. She is his sun. She was. She was his everything. Would he go wherever she is? Probably not. There is an extra special place in Hell reserved for him. She’s in Heaven for sure. He will never, ever see her again. He brings forth the last good memory of her. The one when they talked of marriage. She was supposed to be his wife. They were supposed to live together forever in happiness. This is all Keely’s fault. How many have to die just to save her? Who is she anyway? She is not Lila. Perfect, beautiful Lila.

  He screams behind closed lips. He screams full of agony, of remorse, of anger, and of vengeance. And then it’s over. He opens his eyes in time to see Apophis smile appreciatively at his work. Dustin glares at him, putting all his hatred for the Demon behind it.

  “Now, now. Why would you go and look at me that way? I think I will need more thread.” Apophis plucks the glasses off of Dustin’s face, leaving nothing between him and his eyes.

  Dustin tries to move his lips. Tries to pull them apart by opening his jaw. The pain is worse than when the needle moved through his skin. Blood fills his mouth. He chokes on it before swallowing it down. He gags. Quickly takes deep breaths through his nose to calm the gag reflex. If he vomits, he’s dead for sure. He closes his eyes again. What’s the point? They will be closed soon anyway. There is no point fighting. There is no point living. There is no point dying. He will just lie on this table and exist. Or not. It doesn’t matter anymore.

  Apophis senses a change in Dustin. Like
a sixth sense, he picks up on the boy’s refusal to fight. Refusal to make this fun for him. He should just kill him. He could, but this boy may provide him with a bit of entertainment later. He could have some fun with his girl. With him unable to speak or see, well, that would just add to the torment. Yes, he would keep him around just a bit longer. After that, he wouldn’t be of any further use. He could kill him then. Slowly, of course. He could feast on his blood in front of his girlfriend. That right there will be priceless.

  “Mianna, you have served me well tonight. I have a gift.” Apophis gestures to Dustin. Places the needle in her hand. “You may do what you wish, but do not kill him. I want him alive, I have plans for him. And do not drink from him. He is mine.”

  Mianna nods as her eyes dart between Apophis and Dustin. She becomes fidgety reminding Apophis of a crack addict. Oh, how he loved them. So easy to enter. So easy to control. Not like the strong willed. Addicts nearly invite Demons in, allow them to take over. Give themselves completely. Apophis shivers with the enticing memories. He brushes his fingers over Mianna’s cheek. “Go play.”

  She’s across the room before he’s turned away. As he strides through the door, making the step and slide of his walk appear as if he is dancing, the muffled screams trail after him and he smiles contently.

  Apophis makes his way down the tunnel hallway with a man scurrying behind him holding an industrial sized flash light to keep his path lit. He prefers torchlight like in the old days, but he’s in a hurry now that he has a plan. He perfects this plan with every step. This could be how he persuades his sister to join him. After all, it is join or die. And he truly hopes she will choose to join. Regardless of the reason, he is perfectly positive she will come to love this lifestyle. Once she has a taste of it, she will never be able to go back. He will allow her to hook herself, and then he will reel her in.

  Apophis is unable to summon emotions such as guilt or remorse. He has never felt fear or regret. Keely, however, has invoked feelings all through him. He believes he feels love for his sister or something very close. There is a definite attraction. He envies her innocence, wishing he could have known that for himself. To live the naïve life she has thus far. It makes his blood boil to the point where he wants so much to hurt her. To inflict such pain and watch it displayed across her face. Yet he doesn’t want anyone else to cause her pain. That is his right alone, just as loving her is his. Her determination stirs a feeling he’s never known. He believes it is pride, though he cannot be certain, for he has never witnessed this before. When she fought against him it made him angry and yet, he felt a connection to her. He could see it deep down; she is capable of very deliciously horrible things. The fun they can have together if she just chooses wisely. If she agrees to be his, and only his. He smiles at the mere thought. Yes, that would bring him joy. For Keely to prefer him over her boy, her Nick. To be winner over their father. He pauses, the man behind him nearly running into him. Apophis wants it all and he is so close to getting it. Excitement overcomes him. Dearest Keely. He hasn’t felt excitement in longer than he can recall. The down side of being immortal. Eventually, you’ve seen it all. He owes this new rush that tingles through his body to her. She has made him feel alive again. She has given him purpose. To think, he was so ready to terminate her. He would have missed out on so much.

  He begins moving forward as another thought occurs to him. If she refuses him, he will be forced to kill her. She will be gone, and with her, these emotions. She must choose him. He must retrieve her Nick. It may be the only way. He takes inventory of his assets. He has her parents, which may just be all he needs. Then he has the Watchers, Bryon and Dustin. And of course the lovely Lila. Yet somehow, he isn’t sure it’s enough. But if he had everyone she loved, she would have no choice. And after all, he doesn’t really need to spare Nick. Just pretend this is his intent. Just long enough until she can indulge herself in the lifestyle. Just until she is too addicted to the power to ever want to abandon it.

  Apophis turns abruptly to the Demon behind him. “I want you to take several of my Guard. Find Nick Wallace. I want him breathing and I want him yesterday.” He rips the light from the man’s hand and continues on his way. The Demon rushes off to carry out his wishes. It won’t be much longer. The Princess will be his. He claps the flash light against his hand with a chuckle. Not long at all.

  ***

  Keely rests her head on her knees, her eyes closed. “I still think we should do what Bryon said,” she says on a sigh. Her head hurts. She’s tired, but too scared and too cold to sleep.

  “What harm is there in waiting just a little while longer?” Lila asks. Keely cannot believe how calm she sounds. How sure.

  “Well, for one, they could kill us, but if you need more than one reason I could come up with a few more,” Bryon huffs.

  “O.k. so let me make sure I have this right. We make a big ruckus and hope that someone cares enough to come down and is stupid enough to get close to your cell so you can what? Reach through and overpower a Demon with your good looks and charm? Because you have no weapons. Then you somehow get the key to unlock our cells and we run off into the tunnels. In the dark. Again, without weapons. Without knowing where we’re going or which way gets us out. Oh, and at what point do we stop and save Keely’s parents? And we don’t know where Nick or Dustin are. So we need to figure that out on the way and save them as well—again, without any weapons. Does that sum it up?”

  Bryon shrugs. “Pretty much.”

  “Keely, come on. You have to see my point,” Lila says, annoyance clear in her tone.

  Keely thinks it over quickly. Lila has some very good points, but her only alternative is to sit here and wait for something or someone because she has a feeling. At least with Bryon’s idea they’ll be doing something. Anything is better than here. “I still agree with Bry. Sorry.”

  “This is ludicrous. Keely doesn’t understand what I can do, but you know Bryon. You’ve witnessed it for yourself. My feelings aren’t wrong.”

  “I know Lila, but you can’t tell us what we are waiting on. What if we’re waiting to die because your heart feels it’s our time? I’ve been here so long. I need out. I need out now.”

  Keely thinks he has a point. Besides, though she’d never say it, Lila’s heart never bothered to mention her boyfriend selling Keely out. This, she guesses, could be because it didn’t directly hurt Lila herself. In which case, how is Keely supposed to know if this—whatever—Lila is twiddling her thumbs waiting on, is only good for Lila and nobody else? What if she’s waiting on Dustin? She and Bryon are completely screwed then. Dustin has already proven he will do whatever it takes to save Lila, and only Lila. She couldn’t take that risk.

  Keely jumps to her feet. She is sick of arguing this. She clamps her hands around the rusted bars of her tiny cell, not willing to be kept like a dog in a cage any longer. She takes a deep breath and lets it out on the shrillest, loudest scream she can manage.

  It takes Bryon a very startled moment to understand that Keely is not being murdered in her cell, but going forth with the plan. He joins her screams. Bangs his hands against the bars. One bar wiggles, making a bell like sound with every strike. It must have loosened from his days of trying to get out. It would have been great if he’d come across this sooner. Bryon stops screaming and wiggles the bar roughly. He keeps his hand on it as he lowers himself to lie back on the floor. He brings his foot up to touch his hand, trying to find the right placement. He moves his hand and kicks out at the bar. His fingers find the bar again and he wiggles it fiercely. He thrusts his heel out at the bar over and over. He kicks and he kicks. His foot misses and his leg slides between two bars cutting his shin. He grits his teeth and kicks again and again until the bar gives way. It clatters to the ground just barely missing his head.

  Keely stops yelling when she hears the sound. Bryon snatches up the bar and runs his hand across it. It broke evenly on both ends, but it wil
l still work. “Well, Lila, now we have a weapon.”

  Lila pushes herself up and grips the bars in shaky hands. “O.k. Don’t be mad.”

  “Mad about what? We have a weapon. I mean it’s not the best, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. That’s what I was waiting for, I think, because right now everything inside is warning me to get out. Now.”

  “Oh for shit’s sake, Lila.”

  “No time, Bryon. Start yelling.”

  Keely can’t find her voice for several seconds. A lose bar in a cell? Lila kept them down here for that? Well, it better be the best damn cell bar ever. She shakes her head and adds her voice to her friends’.

  Nineteen:

  Though it’s chillingly cold, Bryon is sweating. Using the back of his hand, he wipes his forehead. With a shakiness he isn’t accustomed to, he lines the bar back up where it came from, holding it firmly in place. He takes a deep breath, readying himself for what he’s about to do. Keely and Lila cease screaming as soon as the door creeks open and a lantern glows in the distance. Bryon squints against the light as he checks the bar, making sure it appears unchanged. He continues shouting as planned in order to draw Geryon to him. He had hoped for a smaller Demon, or at least one less intimidating, but he isn’t exactly in the position to be choosy.

  The lamp is bright in contrast to the deep darkness, but Keely has no trouble making out the enormous bulk of the man coming toward them. He is the largest person she has ever seen. Bigger even than the men at the professional wrestling show her dad took her to. (She went through a faze when she was twelve.) She had been surprised at their size because they hadn’t seemed that big on T.V. Geryon puts them to shame. His arms alone are as big as Keely’s legs and his eyes are fully black. As he moves closer to her cell, he seems to shimmer, or ripple as if he is under water. Only, when he shimmers, she can see the real Geryon. The real Demon is scarier. Sickly gray skin, drooping blank eyes, and a mouth full of razor sharp fanged teeth. Part of her wants to cower, the other part anticipates Bryon ripping this Demon apart. She wraps her hands around the cool metal bars, biting her lip.